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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Mystery
- Subject: Horror / Scary
- Published: 04/28/2017
Hair
Born 1964, F, from Gordon, ACT, AustraliaElyssa braced herself for the pain. She closed her eyes and counted under her breath. 3…2…1! The wax strip sticking to her leg peeled off with a satisfying ripping sound. She examined the stumpy hairs caught on the cloth strip, shuddering with sick distaste at the horrid, alien little hairbulbs. She continued waxing her legs until every hair was gone and her legs flamed with outraged irritation.
She couldn’t quite bring herself to undergo the pain of waxing her pubic hair, instead lathering the area with aloe-vera shaving cream and attacking the barely visible growth with a safety razor until the skin was red and inflamed. Although the visible hair was gone, she was sickly aware of it incubating under the surface, new growth preparing to burst out of her skin.
Narrow plastic wax strips took care of the fine dark hair above her lip, stray eyebrow hairs were unceremoniously uprooted and washed down the sink, rendering them harmless. She gazed in dismay as the bright bathroom light highlighted the fine hair that covered her cheeks.
People just didn’t comprehend just how much hair there was on the average human body, she thought as she lathered her face and scraped the peachfuzz off with the razor. She wished she could submerge herself in depilatory cream and remove every piece of hair from her body, rather than just the socially acceptable amount.
Elyssa stood back and stared critically at her image in the mirror. Her thin eyebrows squatted sullenly above her eyes, her short hair curled dead tendrils around her face and ears. She shuddered at their touch.
Now standing at the bus stop, the wind made her curls writhe. It felt like little dead fingers scratching at her head. It was all she could do to keep herself from ripping her hair out and flinging it into the wind. Elyssa stared with disgust as the wind flapped everyone else’s hair into dead, hairy banners. She made sure to stand clear so the flapping growths didn’t touch her. Tried not to think about these disgusting strands coming loose and flying into her face. Maybe touching her mouth. She shuddered violently, pretending it was because of the cold wind.
The bus finally came and she was able to get out of the wind into a further hell. The cloth seats smelled of wee and were covered in unseen hairs that had woven into the fabric, anchoring themselves against removal. Despite the nearly empty bus, Elyssa chose to stand, gripping the sticky handstraps and ignoring the furtively curious glances from the other passengers.
Elyssa scurried from the bus station to her office, her hair clawing at her face in the wind. Her first stop was the ladies’ restroom to tidy the damage caused by the weather. A long dark hair crouched on the white sink, and she gave it a wide berth, keeping a suspicious eye on it as she finger-combed her hair at the far end of the bank of mirrors and scrubbed her hands raw in hot water. It didn’t seem to move, but of course it wasn’t going to do anything while she was watching.
Friday dragged by, one meeting at a time. Elyssa couldn’t remember what was discussed at any of them. All she could recall was hair, hair everywhere. A disgusting parade of colours and styles. Black, blond, brown, red. Ponytails, curls, straight, unstyled. Hairs silently dropping and disappearing into the carpet, crawling onto clothing, decaying into molecules to be breathed in by the unaware.
Mid afternoon, Elyssa pleaded a headache and caught the bus home, where she gazed into the mirror and wept at the image of her own hair clinging parasitically to her face, her head, her body.
In a gesture of defiance, she took the electric shaver and sent the enemy tumbling from her head to the floor, kicking away the thin wavy corpses as they grabbed at her legs and tried to burrow into her feet. She threw a damp towel over the remains.
The eyebrows were next. Elyssa lined up the shaver and closed her eyes so the falling hairs couldn’t pierce her eyeballs and blind her. She fumbled for a towel to wipe her face before she opened her eyes again. To her horror, she could see a dark shadow where the eyebrows were already preparing to come back.
She felt her scalp crawling as the little black machines under the skin started the slow process of pushing out more hair. Endless hair.
She sobbed in fear as she fumbled in the kitchen drawer for the sharpest knife she could find, praying that the follicles weren’t too deep and that she could cut them out without too much damage.
And damn, those head wounds could bleed!
Elyssa stared at the grotesque image in the mirror. Bloody ditches marked where her eyebrows used to be, her peeled scalp bled and glistened under the bathroom light.
Cilia, she thought with resignation. Hair like structures in your nostrils. And ear hair! God, EAR HAIR! Out of sight was no longer out of mind. What in God’s name would kill these things?
She went back to the kitchen to boil the kettle …
Hair(Hazel Dow)
Elyssa braced herself for the pain. She closed her eyes and counted under her breath. 3…2…1! The wax strip sticking to her leg peeled off with a satisfying ripping sound. She examined the stumpy hairs caught on the cloth strip, shuddering with sick distaste at the horrid, alien little hairbulbs. She continued waxing her legs until every hair was gone and her legs flamed with outraged irritation.
She couldn’t quite bring herself to undergo the pain of waxing her pubic hair, instead lathering the area with aloe-vera shaving cream and attacking the barely visible growth with a safety razor until the skin was red and inflamed. Although the visible hair was gone, she was sickly aware of it incubating under the surface, new growth preparing to burst out of her skin.
Narrow plastic wax strips took care of the fine dark hair above her lip, stray eyebrow hairs were unceremoniously uprooted and washed down the sink, rendering them harmless. She gazed in dismay as the bright bathroom light highlighted the fine hair that covered her cheeks.
People just didn’t comprehend just how much hair there was on the average human body, she thought as she lathered her face and scraped the peachfuzz off with the razor. She wished she could submerge herself in depilatory cream and remove every piece of hair from her body, rather than just the socially acceptable amount.
Elyssa stood back and stared critically at her image in the mirror. Her thin eyebrows squatted sullenly above her eyes, her short hair curled dead tendrils around her face and ears. She shuddered at their touch.
Now standing at the bus stop, the wind made her curls writhe. It felt like little dead fingers scratching at her head. It was all she could do to keep herself from ripping her hair out and flinging it into the wind. Elyssa stared with disgust as the wind flapped everyone else’s hair into dead, hairy banners. She made sure to stand clear so the flapping growths didn’t touch her. Tried not to think about these disgusting strands coming loose and flying into her face. Maybe touching her mouth. She shuddered violently, pretending it was because of the cold wind.
The bus finally came and she was able to get out of the wind into a further hell. The cloth seats smelled of wee and were covered in unseen hairs that had woven into the fabric, anchoring themselves against removal. Despite the nearly empty bus, Elyssa chose to stand, gripping the sticky handstraps and ignoring the furtively curious glances from the other passengers.
Elyssa scurried from the bus station to her office, her hair clawing at her face in the wind. Her first stop was the ladies’ restroom to tidy the damage caused by the weather. A long dark hair crouched on the white sink, and she gave it a wide berth, keeping a suspicious eye on it as she finger-combed her hair at the far end of the bank of mirrors and scrubbed her hands raw in hot water. It didn’t seem to move, but of course it wasn’t going to do anything while she was watching.
Friday dragged by, one meeting at a time. Elyssa couldn’t remember what was discussed at any of them. All she could recall was hair, hair everywhere. A disgusting parade of colours and styles. Black, blond, brown, red. Ponytails, curls, straight, unstyled. Hairs silently dropping and disappearing into the carpet, crawling onto clothing, decaying into molecules to be breathed in by the unaware.
Mid afternoon, Elyssa pleaded a headache and caught the bus home, where she gazed into the mirror and wept at the image of her own hair clinging parasitically to her face, her head, her body.
In a gesture of defiance, she took the electric shaver and sent the enemy tumbling from her head to the floor, kicking away the thin wavy corpses as they grabbed at her legs and tried to burrow into her feet. She threw a damp towel over the remains.
The eyebrows were next. Elyssa lined up the shaver and closed her eyes so the falling hairs couldn’t pierce her eyeballs and blind her. She fumbled for a towel to wipe her face before she opened her eyes again. To her horror, she could see a dark shadow where the eyebrows were already preparing to come back.
She felt her scalp crawling as the little black machines under the skin started the slow process of pushing out more hair. Endless hair.
She sobbed in fear as she fumbled in the kitchen drawer for the sharpest knife she could find, praying that the follicles weren’t too deep and that she could cut them out without too much damage.
And damn, those head wounds could bleed!
Elyssa stared at the grotesque image in the mirror. Bloody ditches marked where her eyebrows used to be, her peeled scalp bled and glistened under the bathroom light.
Cilia, she thought with resignation. Hair like structures in your nostrils. And ear hair! God, EAR HAIR! Out of sight was no longer out of mind. What in God’s name would kill these things?
She went back to the kitchen to boil the kettle …
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